


Casual Drinks

by navree



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Gen, I'm just in the mood for something lighthearted and I got a request so, also I like writing from Albert's perspective, dale isn't technically in this but he's mentioned, he's a gem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-24 15:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12015741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navree/pseuds/navree
Summary: For someone of his disposition, it baffles Albert that his closest friends are polar opposites.Albert Rosenfield enjoys a night out with Diane. He'ssurprisedto find that he enjoys it.





	Casual Drinks

**Author's Note:**

> someone asked if they could request things over on my personal blog and the answer is yes! you absolutely can, the askbox is always open!  
> as always, comments (either positive or constructive) are always welcome and much appreciated!

He doesn't generally enjoy spending time with people. Scratch that, he doesn't enjoy spending unnecessary time with people. If he's actually doing something productive with a person, then he'll at least tolerate the time together. But simple hanging out? It was never his style. 

But, apparently, it is the style of the people closest to him. Specifically, it is the style of Diane, Cooper's much lauded secretary. He can see why Cooper's fond of her; she's exactly his type. Which means she is the opposite of Albert's type, and thus prefers to socialize, and force others to socialize with her. Never mind if some of those others **_(_** one of those others **_)_** feels that he should probably turn in early to get more work done tomorrow. And that is how Albert finds himself in a bar with Diane Evans, of all people, nursing a beer. 

"I'd honestly rather be working than doing this," he complains, gesturing around them. It's a nondescript place, with low lights and the occasional neon sign, packed with people and filled with mindless chatter. The beer is OK, not great but not terrible, and he can't discern what music is playing beyond the fact that it is playing. Everyone here is in casual attire, Diane included. It's a first for him, to see her out of a skirt and blouse, and it makes him feel all the more stuffy in his suit. Stuffy and sleazy, as if he's here to leer at younger women and attempt to impress them with falsified FBI stories. "I feel like a jackass." 

"You are something of a jackass, technically." Another first, to hear Diane being less reserved, more friendly than he's generally perceived her. Maybe not friendly, but less polite. "People tend to ignore it." 

"Oh, that makes me feel so much better," he remarks sarcastically, taking a long sip of his beer. "Well, Diane, since people seem to like you so much, enlighten me: how do I make people believe that I'm not a jackass? Or at least, not as much of one as they think I am." Diane appears to be seriously pondering the question, fingers tapping a staccato rhythm against the table. 

"You could try talking to people more," she offers. "Being friendly and whatnot." He's shaking his head before she even finishes, taking another drink. 

"I don't go to work to socialize Diane." He's emphatic about this, to the point of stubbornness. Albert likes to keep his personal and professional lives separate; he has never had the penchant his friends have for crossing boundaries. He's not adverse to being cordial, despite what some people may think, but he's also not going to discuss the dreams he's had or the meaning of life while meandering by the water cooler. "I go to work to work." 

"Uh huh." Diane's dry tone makes him cock his head, and she mimics the gesture. "But what about when you're not working?" 

"I'm always working." She laughs then, startling and loud, shaking her head as her fingers press against the bridge of her nose. She looks almost exasperated, as if he's a problem she isn't sure how to fix. And Albert isn't sure how he feels about this possible assessment of his character at her hands. 

"You need a hobby." Albert coughs, somewhat pleasantly surprised by the blunt approach his companion is taking. Maybe it's just a byproduct of spending so much time around Cooper, but he's rarely seen the harder aspects of Diane's personality. He doesn't mind them. He likes knowing that she's more multifaceted than he originally anticipated; he likes being proven wrong. 

"I have a hobby," is his response, and Diane arches a delicate eyebrow in his direction. 

"Being shrewishly bitter is not a hobby." He coughs again, this time mixed in with laughter of his own. He has been called many things, by many people, for many reasons, but being called shrewish is a first. It makes him think of Shakespeare, which is not something he normally thinks of when thinking of himself. Albert forces himself back into a straight face, his tone serious and scolding as it can be.

"That's _rude_ Diane." Her response is a coquettish shrug.

"But it's also true." He has no response to that other than a wry twist of his lips. Instead, he taps his glass against Diane's, as close to an acknowledgment she'll be getting from him on this front. 

"So your tried and true recipe for making me more approachable is that I need to get a hobby that doesn't involve bitterness?"

"Yeah, pretty much," she responds immediately, leaning her elbows against the table. There's a twinkle in her eyes, despite the lack of smile, that signals to Albert that nothing she says is said with ill will, that it comes from a place of genuine kindness on her part. Albert smiles, almost in spite of himself, a genuine smile, borne from the shocking revelation that there's a certain level of enjoyment during this conversation on his part.

"Lack of bitterness leads to finally making a friend. Got it." He ticks an imaginary list in the air.

"Hey." Diane's protest is at once amused and gentle, as if scolding a child. "You have friends. You're hanging out with a friend right now. You just need more than two." Her words send a shock through Albert's spine, because she's right. They are friends, Albert and Diane, bound by a mutual liking for one another that allows them to enjoy each other's company, to talk to each other outside the parameters of what needs to be said whenever they are at Quantico. 

"Two?" Is what he says instead. Diane nods. 

"I'm your friend, and Dale is definitely your friend," she says matter-of-factly, once again hitting the nail on the head. "But I think that's your grand total." For someone of his disposition, it baffles Albert that his closest friends are polar opposites. He's not surprised, not really, that Dale Cooper and Diane Evans are his closest friends, but it still baffles him. 

"You and Dale." She nods, forgoing words for taking another sip of her drink. "Let's talk about you and _Dale_." He smiles again when she laughs, soft and almost self-conscious. 

"Oh, let's not." But Albert doesn't say anything, merely folds his arms on the table and waits for her to say something, raising an eyebrow when Diane meets his eye. "OK," she sighs, scrubbing a hand over her face. "I'll give you the full rundown: there's nothing going on between me and Dale." 

"You call him Dale," Albert points out. "I don't call him Dale, no one calls him Dale. And he doesn't generally go for it. The most he'll allow is D.B Cooper." Diane's eyes widen slightly. "You didn't know his middle name started with a B?"

"Shockingly enough, I do not." He laughs, and that apparently makes Diane smile. "So his name's D.B Cooper as in..."

"As in the world's most famous airplane highjacker?" Albert finishes. "Yup. Don't know what his parents were thinking." Diane shrugs, leaning back in her chair with an arm draped over the back. Something about the relaxed atmosphere, the easy flow of their conversation, it makes Albert honest. "He loves you, you know." 

"He loves you too." Diane's only response to what he says, a not so subtle affirmation of what Albert already knows. It's Cooper's thing, his very unique thing, to give his heart wholly to people, so no Albert isn't surprised or even baffled when Diane gives him express confirmation.

"But he still thinks I'm a jackass." And the brief lull of the mood is broken, and Diane's back to her amused grin and her sparkling eyes. 

"Honey, we all think you're a bit of a jackass." And the rest of the evening passes by quickly, and most stunning of all, passes by enjoyably. 


End file.
